


Recovery,  A Thorki Prequel to No Quarter

by Drachenkinder



Series: Learning to Fly [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Eating Disorder, End Game never happened, M/M, Not Infinity War compliant, Pain, References to Depression, Self-Harm, Thor Killed Thanos before he could snap.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-11 13:13:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20546720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drachenkinder/pseuds/Drachenkinder
Summary: After Thanos’ defeat, Thor went looking for their dead, so they could have proper funeral rights. He especially wanted to find Loki’s body to honor him. To his relief and horror he found Loki was still alive, though wasted and in a coma, as his magic tried to heal the terrible damage.  Loki’s body isn’t the only thing that needs healing.  Angst and a bit of self-harm. Comfort.





	1. Chapter 1

The sun was gleaming through the roughly woven curtains, casting a dull light across the bed. Loki turned his back to the glow. Another day. He supposed he should be grateful, but in truth he felt nothing. He stared at the dark logs that made up the walls of his home. Home was not the right word, it was more a prison. With his seidr so unreliable, and barely controlled he’d been moved away from the town to protect the surviving Aesir. Runes were carved into the logs to drain away any excess magic and ground it into the earth. That he was allowed inside the walls of New Asgard at all was solely due to Thor. Though calling this dismal little settlement New Asgard should be laughable, were it not so pitiable. Gods he was tired. Tired of pretending to care.

Thor would be along soon and Loki didn’t want to see him. Didn’t want to see the way his burdens had etched his face with lines all out of proportion to his age. Didn’t want to hear his desperate attempts to give Loki some hope in his situation. He truly didn’t want to have to get dressed and put on a fake face and feign interest in what he had planned for them today. Thor’s way of cheering him up. As though Loki was sad. He’d welcome sadness, welcome anger, welcome anything at all. Thor would see his hand and become upset. Loki wondered if that was a feeling. That he didn’t want Thor upset. No, he just didn’t want to have to give reassurances that he was fine. Didn’t want to lie and say that it had been an accident from loading wood into the stove.

He’d done it see if he could still feel anything. He had. After a few seconds the distant pain had become strong enough that he pulled his hand away from the stove. It had hurt for most of the night. That was good. He could still feel pain, and it gave his mind something to think about so he didn’t just drift without sleeping, laying on the bed as the world turned under him. But Thor would see it and guess and there would be tears in his eyes and Loki was too damn exhausted, to deal with it. He pulled the blankets over his head.

The dark was better than the light. Nothing was expected of him in the dark. How long he lay that way he didn’t know. Time was something else that didn’t matter.. The knock on the door and Thor’s too hardy voice roused him for a moment.

“Loki, I’ve brought fresh honey spiced rolls for breakfast.”

Gods he’d try to get Loki to eat one. He couldn’t pretend he’d had breakfast already, Thor would insist. Loki lay still, maybe Thor would go away if he didn’t make any noise.

“Loki? Are you alright?”

No, Loki thought. I’m not alright. I’m dead Thor. I’m dead and I’m still breathing and you can’t see it. Go away and let me be dead in peace. Stop trying to bring me back to life. He shut his eyes. It was too much to say.

He heard the door open and Thor’s voice softer now.

“Brother?”

Go away. Loki said, inside his own head.

The blanket lifted and he could feel Thor standing over him. Feel his gaze. Loki screwed his eyes shut tighter. Turned his face into the pillows.

Please leave Thor, he thought. Please don’t talk to me.

A weight settled on the bed next to him. A broad hand rubbed his back. Loki tensed under the touch. Waiting for the questions, the prying, and the demands that he do something. Get up, eat, dress come outside. But there were no words. Just the gentle stroke down his back. The warmth of Thor’s hand penetrated the fabric of his night shirt. Loki began to relax under it. He sighed. There was a pause in the stroking and the sound of boots hitting the floor. Then Thor stretched out beside him. Loki shivered when Thor pulled him close. Pulled him to his broad chest and wrapped his massive arms around him. He was so warm. Warmer than the blankets, warmer than the stove. Loki buried his head against his brother’s shoulder. Breathed in his scent. Thor’s hand rubbed his back in slow soothing strokes. He could feel Thor’s breath in his hair. He was thawing in Thor’s enveloping heat. He took a deep breath, then another. Thor’s heart beat steady and comforting. He could feel this, this low thrumming against his cheek. He could feel his brother, strong and safe and so very warm.

Loki’s breathing deepened and slowed further. Cradled in Thor’s arms Loki slept.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mention of self hurt, eating disorder. Loki deals with trauma from his encounter with Thanos.

He hadn’t eaten in days, maybe weeks. Time blurred together. At first Thor had brought him hearty meals. Loki picked at them, pulled them to pieces and hid the bits under his napkin.

“I’m not really hungry. I’ll have some later. I’ve already eaten. I stopped by the kitchens earlier.” Loki would say. Lying was second nature and the truth was an open wound. Excuses were simpler.

Sometimes the pain in his brother’s eyes was too terrible to bear and Loki would try to choke down a bite or two.

Then Thor started bringing him his favorites. Pastries made from horded Asgardian spices. Seafood prepared in the manner they’d had on Alfheim. A bottle of mead from the last brewing before Ragnarok. Thor sought out the recipe for an appetizer he remembered Loki had once favorably remarked upon, and it appeared his plate for several days. Always it returned to the kitchens untouched.

Meal times had become an undeclared battle ground between Thor’s bullheaded persistence and Loki’s inability to eat.The stress of that silent war meant Loki vomited the little he’d managed to swallow in the aftermath. He tried to find ways to avoid his brother at meal times, spending time wandering aimlessly in the small patch of woodland pretending to hunt for spell ingredients. Or burying his head in a book whose words danced across the pages in meaningless symbols. He’d mime his old arrogance and Thor seem reassured at his familiar behavior. But as the days passed, Loki had found himself less able to keep up the guise.

The eroding grey darkness had finally taken him over and he’d given in completely on the morning Thor brought the honey rolls to his log built cabin.

Now he lay beside a sleeping Thor, his brother’s arms like a castle wall between Loki and a too demanding world. Somehow he’d become Loki’s protector, instead of his adversary in this strange war. Loki was loath to move, lest the fragile peace be shattered again. Having finally slept, Thor would again start pressuring him to eat. He shuddered at the thought.

The slight movement woke Thor and Loki almost wept. His brother’s concern was a weight that was slowly crushing him and the respite had been short. Too short. Thor’s hand cupped his jaw, his thumb brushed tears from Loki’s cheek. The tenderness bordered on painful and Loki swallowed unconsciously in an effort to get control. Which was a mistake. He was glad for the darkness of the room as he buried his head against Thor’s neck and clung, taking small shallow breaths, till his heart stopped hammering. Thor never said a word, only stroked his back till the shivering stopped. Eventually the shame of his loss of control overruled his aching need for Thor’s strength and he shoved away and sat up. By the time his brother had struck a match and lit the bedside candle Loki had wrestled his voice back under control.

“I am certain you have other more pressing duties than to coddle my weakness.” He said with a trace of his former arrogance.

“No.” said Thor, not reacting to Loki’s self-disparaging words. “Brunhilde is in charge for now. She can handle any minor crisis. I needed a respite from ruling. I thought to spend it in your company.”

“I hardly make for good companionship. You’d do better to spend time with your mortal friends.”

Please, Loki thought. Please leave me now with this good memory. Please go, let me go.

Thor has risen from the bed and was making his way across the room, lighting the lamps with the candle. It was fully dark and no lights gleamed from the village. They had slept the day away and part of the night. Thor paused at the table where the neglected pastries sat wrapped in their cloth. They were stale by now and the thought of them made Loki’s stomach cramp in distaste. He shut his eyes and prayed Thor wouldn’t open them, wouldn’t gods forbid, eat one in front of him. The memory of their scent, warm from the oven was like an assault and Loki could taste bile on the back of his tongue.

“I would rather spend time with my brother.”

Loki sighed in relief when Thor bypassed the pastries and went to the cold box instead. He knew it was empty, he took the food out daily and dumped it in the woods for the animals to dispose of. When Thor removed a bottle of milk, Loki was puzzled and then understood that he must have brought it himself. Thor took a pan from the rack, filled it with milk and placed it on the stove. While it was heating he disappeared into the bathroom.

Loki sat on the edge of the bed. He desperately wanted Thor to leave, yet, at the same time he didn’t want to be alone again. He chewed on his lower lip and went to pick at the bandage on his hand. There was a bandage on his hand. While he slept, Thor had bandaged the burn. That he hadn’t awakened sent a thrill of horror at his vulnerability through Loki. Thor knew what he’d done to himself and would look at him with hurt and betrayal in his eyes. It was too much and Loki covered his face with his hands. He heard Thor moving about the room and he hid like a child, afraid to reveal his face and see his brother’s disappointment.

The bed shifted as Thor sat beside him. An arm slide around his shoulders. Loki could smell the warm milk. For moment Thor’s lips were soft on his temple. Loki could not keep himself from leaning into Thor’s solid strength. Gradually he lowered his hands. Thor held one of the heavy mugs filled with warm milk. Loki took a slow breath trying to steady himself.

“I’m not hungry Thor.” Loki said launching the opening volley.

Thor kissed the top of his head and ignored his words.

“I don’t want any.” Loki said.

Thor stroked his arm and held him in silence. His concern ate at Loki.

“I can’t.” Loki said.

“Why?”

Loki bit his lip again. It was so hard to trust.

“It hurts.” He said.

Thor stiffened for a moment and Loki took a sharp breath at his tenseness.

“I, I did not know.” Thor said.

Loki pulled away from him and turned his back.

“Your throat?” Thor was too perceptive by far.

Loki was still for several long moments. He finally nodded, not trusting himself to words.

“It reminds you of what happened.”

Thor was so careful to not mention Thanos, the monster who’d slaughtered their people and hurt Thor unmercifully. As if by avoiding the Titian’s name it would make the memory of Loki’s near death less horrid.

As though he can’t feel those powerful fingers wrapped crushingly tight around his throat, feel his breath thicken as his air is cut off, feel the pounding in his brain as the pressure increases, feel the cartilage collapse and the veins burst and the unimaginable cracking pain as his bones give way. Hear Thor’s unending raking sobs as the darkness closes around his paralyzed and dying body.

Loki stared at the wall and tried to get his breathing under control. Counting the logs. Fifteen from bottom to top. Fifteen from top to bottom. Thor moved beside him again and he was enveloped in Thor’s strength. Loki could feel the sweat on his own skin, smell the rankness of fear, knew he was losing himself in the memory.

“You’re here Loki and Thanos is dead. I cut off his head. His body was quartered, the pieces burned and the ashes separately scattered in the depths of space. He cannot come back. He cannot harm you again.”

The grayness shattered. Under there was only pain.

“He’s still in my head!” Loki cried out. He shoved away from Thor, rose to his feet and faced his brother. “I can’t stop him. I can’t get away. I’ll never get away. I keep dying over and over again. I keep seeing our people killed, killed because of me. Every time I swallow, his hand is back on my throat. Why did you bring me back? Why didn’t you finish the job? Is there no mercy in you?”

Thor surged to his feet and tried to pull Loki into his arms, but Loki backed away in panic.

“Loki, Brother. How could you think that I would kill you? I love you.” The anguish in Thor’s voice, the tears streaking his face were like shards of glass being driven under Loki’s skin.

“Damn you Thor! Don’t cry. I can’t bear it!” Loki covered his ears and turned away from his brother. “Hate me. It’s easier when you hate me. I can’t abide your love.”

Then Thor grasped him again and pinned him against the log wall. He forced Loki to turn and face him. Thor opened his mouth, but his words were lost when Loki grabbed the back of his head and kissed him without warning. Hard and brittle and with a hunger that was devastating. Loki sank his teeth into Thor’s lower lip and sucked at it. His other arm slipped around Thor’s waist and he pressed his thin body against Thor’s muscular torso. There was nothing brotherly about the way he rubbed his groin against Thor.

Loki jerked back from the kiss, bumping his head on the wall. He expected to see disgust written on Thor’s face. Instead he saw wonder, and tenderness and love so strong, it overwhelmed Loki. Then Thor’s hand cupped his cheek and Thor’s lips were on his and the kiss was slow and gentle. Loki sobbed into it. Held on to his brother, his lover, his world.

When they pulled apart slowly, Thor kissed the tears from Loki’s cheeks.

“Loki.” and his name was a prayer in Thor’s mouth.

“Thor.” He replied. There was no need for more.

Thor led him to the table and sat Loki in a chair. He filled a second mug with warm milk from the stove and would have sat beside his brother, but Loki stood up. 

“No.”

“Loki, you need to eat.”

“I know.” Loki said, taking the mug and grasping his brother’s hand. “But not like this.”

How strong and broad and beautiful was Thor’s hand. His looked like a ghost’s in his brother’s palm, the bones thin and sharp under his pale translucent skin. He led Thor to the oversized chair woven of branches. It creaked under his brother’s weight but easily held him. Loki climbed onto his lap, his legs hanging off one arm. Thor pulled him close and Loki leaned into his brother’s arms. It was Thor’s lips on his throat and Thor’s hands on his belly, as he took a sip of the milk. Thor’s whispered words of love as he swallowed. Thor’s scent surrounded him, drove away the remembered stench of death. His brother’s hands circled and rubbed away the impending nausea as Loki drank. Rubbed away the memory and fear and pain. 

He put the almost empty mug down when he had finished and turned to kiss Thor again. Tentative, afraid of rejection now that he’d complied with Thor’s wish for him to eat. But Thor’s lips were soft and warm and welcoming. Loki set about slaking a hunger worse than that of his body. Sensuous and slow and sweeter than any kiss he’d ever had, were the touches of his brother’s lips. They leisurely explored each other’s mouths.

The kisses trailed off and Loki snuggled down, his head tucked under Thor’s chin. He could feel the prod of Thor’s arousal through the thin sleep pants. His own cock stirred as desire woke. Passion kindled under his skin and he wished he had the energy to pursue it.

“Soon, brother.” Loki promised.

“There is no hurry. We shall have the rest of our lives together, Loki. A few days will make little difference.” Thor’s fingers laced with his. 

The rest of our lives, Loki mused. What had felt like a prison sentence before, was tinged with hope now. He was home. Loki shut his eyes and smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this little story that fills in Loki and Thor's relationship after Ragnarok. Also why Thor is so very protective of Loki and suspicious of anyone getting close to him.


End file.
